


Sight Unseen

by HannaM



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaM/pseuds/HannaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Psyche ever wanted was to be more than a pretty face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sight Unseen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [betony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betony/gifts).



When I was twelve years old, I tried to cut off all my hair.

My sister, Euanthe, found me before I had entirely succeeded and snatched the shears from my hands. She was afraid that I might hurt myself or ruin my marriage prospects. Little did she understand, I was hoping for both.

I have always been considered beautiful, since before I understood what that really meant. It was confusing, as a child, being pointed to in the street, or given gifts by strangers, but not nearly as bad as when I began to mature into womanhood. Men followed me, and their wives hated me for it. The presents were no longer toys or flowers for a girl, but what I can only describe as offerings.

As a ten year old, I began to loathe going outside at all, and begged my parents to let me stay inside. At first they thought I was being ridiculous, but when parents began pestering me to bless their babies, my mother took my side, as did my sister.

My father, on the other hand, was never one to let opportunity pass him by. At great expense, he brought us to Aetheopeia, where it was well known that their Queen was always in search of handmaidens to complement her beauty.

Queen Cassiopeia's delight in my appearance surpassed my father's greatest hopes, and I was assigned to be the companion of her daughter, two years my elder.

Had she actually given me time to open my mouth, it might have been a different story. To balance out my good looks, I had cultivated a sour and angry personality. I could not see any advantage in moving to the palace, particularly since as far as I was concerned there was nothing that suggested my beauty would do anything but grow. Would the Queen find me so delightful when I was more beautiful than she?

And so it was that I stole a pair of shears from an awestruck gardener and attempted to mangle my hair.

"Psyche," my sister said, stroking my head, "your beauty is a gift from the gods. Why do you hate it so?"

"I'll pray to the gods that they give it to you instead, and then maybe you'll know," I promised.

I was extremely religious. Each day, I went before Aphrodite, begging her to make me ugly, and apologizing for the "worshipers" I had obtained. Then I went to Hera, and prayed for Euanthe to find a husband who did not want me. Finally I went to Artemis, and prayed to stay chaste, for I hated men for making me feel like a cow at the marketplace, and I loathed my father for using my beauty to further his own name.

Now, Cassiopeia's daughter was a patient sort. The first few days I attended her she would ask me questions about myself, and when I responded sullenly or not at all, she would say, "That's all right, you don't have to tell me." Eventually she realized it was better to let me sit in the corner, scowling, than engage with me. Somehow, she never complained, and only ever spoke highly of me to her mother. I can only assume she lied completely, since I assure you, there was never a thing I did for her to be pleased with. But, however silently, I was grateful. 

Though Aphrodite and Hera were deaf to my prayers (Euanthe did marry, but her husband often tried to get me alone, for what purposes I would rather not dwell on), Artemis seemed to hear me. For all the leering and praise I endured as I grew older, there was not one marriage proposal.

Until my seventeenth birthday.

My father had gone to the Apollo's Oracle to ask him how I should find a husband, since my state was beginning to edge into embarrassment. Her reply was, as follows, "Her husband is no wight of human seed, but serpent dire and fierce as might be thought; who flies with wings above in starry skies, and doth subdue each thing with fiery flight- the gods themselves, and powers that seem so wise, even mighty Zeus, be subject to his might."

My father would have rejoiced, if this had not been accompanied by the instruction to leave me on a cliffside, and the promise that he would never see me again afterwards.

For all that she could not have liked me, Andromeda was outraged. "They cannot do this! It is not marriage the gods prepare her for, but death!"

"Perhaps death is my fate," I said. "Better that than continue on as a burden to my family."

Andromeda fell silent at that.

Euanthe remained optimistic, however. "The gods have many forms- perhaps serpent is only one of your husband's! He may be a spirit of the wind who has chosen you."

Even when we stood at the side of the cliff, no such being in sight, Euanthe congratulated me on my good fortune.

"You are the most beautiful of brides, Psyche," her husband said, not sparing his wife a second glance.

"Soon to be the most beautiful of corpses, I'm sure," I replied. At that, my mother burst into tears, and my father had to bring her away.

The wedding rites between me and empty air were performed with utmost solemnity, and soon it was time to say goodbye. Andromeda embraced me awkwardly, and Euanthe whispered into my ear that I must find a way to send her a letter telling her all about what had become of me. For once, I held my tongue, and simply nodded. I could not bear to bring my sister to tears as well.

I must have stood for hours on that cliffside. I contemplated throwing myself over, at one point, but could not work up the courage. Finally, I slept.

And that is when this story begins.

...

I awoke in a garden, a small brook trickling past me. As I squinted at the sunlight, a ladybug crawled over my cheek.

"I have a husband!" I cried out, truly shocked. And frightened and confused and relieved, all at once.

There was no one else to be seen in the garden, but I knew I must have been brought here by someone. Would he throw himself at my feet like others had before him? Would he demand immediate consummation of our marriage? Would he chop me up for supper, or perhaps devour me whole?

Would he appear at all, I began to wonder, as I wandered through the garden, and found no sign of my captor. This time, I was determined I would not sleep, but would see the man- or beast- I had been given no choice but to marry.

The garden came to an end, and I found a luxurious mansion, with rooms appointed with every luxury one could hope for. Still, I continued to search, and still I found no sign of a husband, or any other being, for that matter. The sun had set long along, and I was wandering through dark rooms with only my hands to guide me, when I collided at last with what felt to be a humanoid figure.

"I'm so sorry," were his first words to me. His voice was a low baritone, with a soft edge to it. It did not seem the voice of a serpent feared by Zeus, nor the attitude of one, so I stepped back, and let him speak.

"If I had my choice, we would have met another way," my husband continued, sounding genuinely abashed. "But I'm afraid where I come from there are certain rules that are very strict, and there was no help for it."

I put my hand on my hip and attempted to stare down the darkness in front of me (for my eyes refused to adjust in this room, no matter how hard I focused). "What is it you want from me?"

"What you will," he said immediately. "I promise, marriage is the first and only demand I will ever make of you."

"And consummation?"

There was a pause. "I admit I would like it, but if the prospect frightens or repulses you, I will not pressure you."

It was too good to be true, I was certain. "You haven't told me your name."

"I am known as the Lord of the Hidden Valley. More than that, I am not permitted to tell you."

I burst out laughing. "Must I call you that? That doesn't sound at all husbandly."

"It is a bit formal," he agreed. "If there's another name you'd prefer to use, I will answer to any you'll give me."

"I can't possibly give you a nickname till I know you better," I said finally, after racking my mind. "I don't even know why you wanted to marry me, since you can't see me any better in the dark than I can see you."

"Because I love you. I would love you if I had no eyes, dearest Psyche."

It was the most staggering thing I had ever heard in my life. How could I possibly respond? How could such a love exist? What had I ever done to merit it? Who in all the world would love me without my beauty?

"How?" I said, finally. "Why?"

He laughed, and the sound warmed my ears. "Shall I give you the long list, or the shortened version? I love you for your spirit, I love you for your courage, I love you for your anger, I love you for your humility, I love the way you stretch your neck when you wake, I love you for the way you hide your tears when you're upset-"

"How do you know these things about me?" I burst out, intimidated by his passion. "You may be a god, but you must have better things to do than follow me around all day! And if you did, why didn't you do something to help me sooner? If Zeus himself fears you-"

"The Oracle told you that?" He sounded amused. "That was something of an evasion on her part. I did all I could do, my darling. If Artemis first heeded your prayers that you not be married, it was I that sent potential suitors elsewhere more recently. You see, I was only sent to you six months ago."

"Sent?"

"Clever Psyche, trying to find hints to my identity," he said fondly. "I cannot tell you by whom or on what errand. All I can say is that I am yours forever."

"And if I ask you to leave me?" I said, tentatively.

"I will go, and not return until you send for me."

"And if I never sent for you?"

"I will be content."

Something strange was happening to me. I knew nothing of him, truly, and I should have still been afraid and been relieved by his promise to leave me here, but all I could think was how sad it would be never to hear that voice again. Was this what others had felt when they looked at me?

"Go now," I managed. And I knew, somehow, that he was truly gone, and not pretending. When I reached my hands out, there was only air, and as I found my way to a bed, I knew it would be empty, and that I could trust him to leave me alone in it.

In the morning, I woke full of fear that by sending him away, there would be some catch- that I would be without food, or that the flowers and buildings would begin to crumble. But there was a plate of fresh feta and smoked pork waiting for me, which I tore into eagerly. The rooms were still as glorious as they had been the day before, and there was no sign that anything was amiss.

He simply loved me, without any expectation of reward.

I realized, with a jolt, that he had given me what I had wanted for so many years. There was no one here to harass me, no one to leer at me, no father to barter me for what goods he needed. Except for the kindness of my sister, and the patience of Andromeda, I had everything I could have needed.

And yet, I wanted more.

"Husband," I said aloud.

The curtains closed themselves. "Here I am."

It was day, and I could still see the outlines of my hands, but not him. Perhaps he was invisible. "May I touch you?" I said, finally.

"I yearn for it."

My stomach turned over. "I know nothing of what passes between men and women," I said quickly.

"I will teach you anything you wish to learn."

How can I begin to describe the bliss I felt in his embrace? There had never been a concrete object of desire for me before- only a sort of abstract longing for warmth. Now, as my husband's hand gently cupped my cheek, and I felt the fine hairs on his chest against my breasts, I understood eroticism. A kind of sympathy was between us; even though I did not believe I could possibly love him yet, I found that I wanted him, and more staggeringly, I <i>liked</i> him.

"Please," I whispered.

...

Since we had occupied ourselves with pleasure in the day, when I woke, it was night, and my invisible lover still lay beside me, legs wrapped around mine. He asked me how I liked the villa, and I told him the rooms I had liked best. He promised to teach me how to play the lyre, and to bring me anything that was lacking.

"I don't know much about love," I told him, "but you are the first man I've ever enjoyed spending time with."

He took my hand and held it against his mouth so I could feel his smile. "Thank you."

This came to be our schedule- early morning to mid-day we slept, then ate and did as we would mid day to late night. He could not always be with me, so on those days I would practise music and explore the grounds.

Not that it was all happiness. I missed my sister and mother, and outings to the temples with Andromeda and the other maidens. I wrote them countless letters that I knew would not be sent. And then sometimes I would sit and sift through the little hints my husband had given me as to his identity. I had eliminated a good deal of major gods, as well as satyrs and centaurs. I wondered if he might be one of the spirits of the wind- but that would not explain why he was "sent" to me, nor why Zeus would fear him. By his musical aptitude he might have been Apollo, but his shyness and secrecy made that seem unlikely.

One night, he was teasing me with a quill, when he must have noticed the ink on my fingernails. "What have you been writing, love?"

"Oh," I said, embarrassed. "Letters to my family. My sister wanted me to leave her a note in a hollow tree- but I don't see how I could get to one."

There was a silence that I had begun to recognize as him thinking. "I could have Zephyr take the letters- but, well, please don't ask to see your family. At least, not yet."

"Why?" I demanded. I knew I should be grateful, but there seemed something sinister about insisting I be kept away from my sister. "Don't tell me that's another rule!"

"Not a rule- just... I'm afraid they might be jealous, and make you unhappy, dearest."

"My father and mother usually make me unhappy," I admitted. "But my sister couldn't possibly be jealous of me. Besides, she hasn't even received the letters yet! She may be content to write back and forth."

"But you would not be," he stated.

"Just allow me one visit from my sister, if she asks."

He sighed. "I can't deny you."

...

My sister's letter was ecstatic and stained with tears of joy. She admitted that she had begun to think that perhaps I was dead, but apologized for ever losing hope. (Of course I begun my next letter by telling her she didn't have to apologize for her feelings) She added that she had told our parents, who had told Queen Cassiopeia. This made me uneasy- I had thought my husband's worries of jealousy were silly, but I had figured without the Queen. She was well known for taking umbrage to any good fate that did not favor her daughter (something that deeply embarrassed Andromeda). I told my sister as much, adding that she was free to visit me when she liked, for I would make arrangements with my husband.

She replied by explaining that Andromeda had been in mourning, and it had sparked a fight between her and the Queen that Euanthe had hoped to quell. She would be happy to visit me, my sister added, but it was only fair to bring Andromeda.

Sheepishly, I explained the situation to my husband. Contrary to what I expected, he was not annoyed, but agreed cheerfully.

"I'll have to be away from you more than usual in the coming weeks, and I don't want you to lack for company."

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him fondly. "I'm so sorry I ever doubted you."

He held me close, and murmured against my cheek, "All I ask is that you not let them bring you discontent."

I didn't understand, at the time, what he meant, so of course, I agreed.

...

Euanthe and Andromeda were tousled and bedraggled from the wind when they arrived, but in my eyes they could not have been more beautiful. I ran to them, my arms outstretched, and seized my sister in a hug.

"Psyche!" Euanthe cried, evidently surprised.

"It's so good to see you! And you too, Andromeda," I beamed.

"I've never seen you like this before," Andromeda marveled.

"What do you mean?"

"Happy," Andromeda said simply.

"Blessings to the gods," Euanthe declared. "For making all of this possible. Now, you must show us around your home, sister."

I did so gladly, though Andromeda seemed less enamored of the gardens than I, and there was an impatience in Euanthe that I could not figure the source of.

"Here's dinner, if you're hungry," I said, after some time, when we came to the room where my husband and I usually supped.

"But who made it?" Andromeda wondered. "We've been all over the villa, and not seen a single servant."

I shrugged, uncomfortably. "I don't know. I used to think it was my husband, but it comes when he's away, like now, so it must be some other spirit."

"He's away!" cried Euanthe. "You mean we won't meet him?"

"No, he's very busy this time of year," I tried to explain.

"It's summer," Euanthe said suspiciously. "What could he possibly be busy with, drowning sailors?"

"Don't be rude," Andromeda said quickly, as I gaped at them.

"My husband is not a sea monster," I said, shakily.

"But, Psyche," Andromeda said gently, "how could you know for sure? You wrote that you had never seen him."

"He has a man's body, I assure you," I said hotly, my cheeks burning.

"So why not let you see it? You're married, after all," Euanthe pointed out.

"We don't mean to upset you," Andromeda insisted. "It's just- you'll forgive us if all this seems a bit too wonderful to be real."

And she was right. It wasn't my sister and Andromeda that I was upset at- it was myself. I had wanted to believe so badly, that I pushed the discontent that was already nesting in me to the back of my mind. Hadn't I myself wondered day after day how it was that my husband came upon me, and what the Oracle's words meant?

They stayed another two days, and I did my best to be a gracious hostess, but the mood was spoiled. What was I going to do? I could not force him to reveal himself to me.

It was Andromeda that came to my rescue. Just before leaving, she pressed a candle in my hand. "Keep it to yourself," she whispered, as she gave me one final embrace. "When he is sleeping, light it. Unconscious, his true form may be visible to you."

Euanthe kissed me on the cheek, and sincerely wished me well. "Please go on writing to us," she said. "I want to share in your happiness, sister."

But when they were gone, it was Andromeda's words that stayed with me. I stared at the candle in my hand. So drab, so unlike the surroundings. But I knew that it was as real as me.

Did I realize I loved him then, when the idea that he might have been deceiving me shook me to my very core? I would sound more intelligent if I did, I'm sure. Instead, I struggled between the need to know, and the desire to trust, spending many a sleepless night wondering when he would return. Then, I thought, I would know what I must do.

We had been together long enough that I knew it the moment he entered our bedroom.

"How were your sister and the Princess Andromeda?"

"Well," I lied. "How was your work?"

"Much the same as usual- tiresome without you." I felt his weight as he sat on the bed and reached for me. I grasped his hand and kissed it.

"Someday, will you be able to tell me what it is you do, at least?" I asked, trying not to sound petulant.

"I promise."

We renewed our acquaintance then with much enthusiasm, and afterwards fell to resting. I could tell by his gentle breathing that my husband had fallen asleep, but I stared up at the darkness, remembering the candle. It felt so wrong, but I couldn't explain to myself why. Had I not the right to know my husband's face? He knew my name and history, why didn't I know his?

I wanted to find a reason not to look, but ultimately, I could find none more compelling than the sick feeling in my stomach.

Slowly, I rolled on my side, and furtively reached under the bed for the candle. Lighting it would be the difficult part- I had found some flint on a day when I had wished to try my hand at cooking my own meals, but I was out of practice when it came to striking fire.

After a few surreptitious attempts, during which I stopped repeatedly to make sure the rhythm of my husband's breath continued steady, I finally decided he was not going to awake any time soon, and allowed myself to make more noise in grinding the flint against the steel. Holding the candle between my knees, with the flint directly above the wick, my hands rapidly grew weary of the repetitive motions, but I persisted. I had talked myself into this, and there was no sense in giving up now. At last, the light caught, and I threw down the flint and took up the candle.

My first sight was of his wings, folded delicately against his back. How had I never noticed my husband's wings before?

Leaning forward, I raised the candle higher so I could look on his face. The moment I beheld it, I was sorry I had ever doubted.

" _Eros_ ," I whispered, for there was no question in my mind as to my husband's identity now. Words could not possibly do justice to his fine features and well-proportioned body. As he slept on, oblivious, lust rose up in me, and I wanted- _needed_ \- to touch him again.

You know what happened then, I'm sure. As I leaned forward, all sense of caution forgotten, the candle was melting quickly, not helped by my tightening grip. A large globule of wax slid off the slide, missing my warm fingers, and landing with a light _smack!_ on my husband's shoulder.

His eyes flew open immediately, and I, realizing what I had done, shrunk back.

"My mother said this would happen," he said, his wings tensing up. "I didn't want to believe her, but oh! If you had only waited two more nights, I could have revealed myself to you."

"Why didn't you tell me that?" I wailed.

He shook his head, tears in his beautiful eyes. "Not the way it works. I was allowed to take a mortal bride on condition that for six months, she neither see me nor know my name. I agreed, because how else would I know I was loved for my own sake?"

A pang of recognition resonated in my heart. "I'm so sorry, my love," I whispered. "There must be another way- you must forgive me."

Eros closed his eyes, and, taking up his quiver of arrows that were now visible to me, spread his wings.

"No!" I screamed, and seized his leg. He attempted to fly away, but I held on fast, and although my husband had the strength to carry us both, and indeed got as far as the garden, there was little point in flying to escape me when I refused to let go of him.

As he landed, I threw my arms around his chest, and covered it with kisses. "You cannot leave me here, please, I love you. I know now I loved you before I knew-"

"You've pricked yourself with one of my arrows," Eros said flatly.

I shook my head. "I promise you, I never saw them till after. You must forgive me- if it was you in my position, not knowing when you could know all of me, you wouldn't have been able to stand it either. Aphrodite would understand-"

He laughed, bitterly. "It is because of Aphrodite that I must leave you. She sent me to you last year to curse you, Psyche."

"What?" My stomach turned over. "What did I do to offend Aphrodite?"

"First the people of Sicily, then Aetheopeia left off worshiping her in favor of you. She heard your apologies, but it didn't matter- she was still slighted, and she required revenge."

My eyes burned with tears. "That's- that's not fair! I prayed every day for my beauty to be taken away!"

"She sent me," Eros continued, as if I had not spoken, "to cause you to fall in love with some distasteful being. An ass, or the gardener, or the man that cleans King Cepheus' chamberpots."

"Only you didn't do it," I whispered.

He shook his head. "You may think on that, when I am gone. I can be cruel, as well as kind."

My husband flew then, too quickly for me to catch hold of again, and though I ran after him, I did not get very far before the agony in my stomach became too much, and I doubled over and emptied its contents beside the river.

I was too weak to stand then, so I stayed on my knees, staring at my reflection in the water.

For the first time since I had cut my hair as a young girl, I was not beautiful. My eyes were red, and my hair frazzled. Dirt was spread across my body from the harsh landing, and my hands and feet stung with sharp rocks and sticks I had only just begun to feel.

I had finally lost my looks, and it did not matter. I was truly alone now, lost without the most beautiful gift I had never asked for.

...

I can't tell you how long I spent just walking, looking in vain for some hint as to where my husband had gone. Mount Olympus, of course, is where the gods are said to live, but I hoped he was not there now, since I couldn't imagine climbing that mountain on my own, especially since my stomach got worse with each passing morning.

I had been thinking of killing myself constantly, even tried to throw myself in the river (which seemed to spit me right out), but on the day I stood at the edge of a cliff, confident that death was indeed my destiny, my stomach ached again, and I absently put my hand to it, only to realize it wasn't my stomach that felt different.

"Oh," I whispered. "Oh, no."

I was with child, and my husband would never know.

My eyes welled up with tears to think of how he would react if he knew. He had said often that he thought fondly of his childhood, and loved to play with children. He would be so happy...

"So," a strange, musical voice said. "You are the beautiful mortal I've heard so much about."

I turned, slowly, my hand still on my belly, only to stumble and fall to my knees when I saw the goddess who had graced me with her presence.

Even at my cleanest, most exquisitely looked after, no one should ever have compared me to Aphrodite. What Eros was to men, Aphrodite was to women. She was all mortal beauty combined and yet beyond mortal beauty altogether. Perhaps because she was a more powerful god than her son, I could not quite look at her directly without becoming dizzy. Instead, I addressed the divine perfection of her toes.

"Great goddess, I have given you praise since I was small-"

"Liar," she said sharply. "You have rudely demanded I return my gifts since you were small. You have insulted me time and time again."

"They brought me unhappiness and unwanted attention, my lady," I mumbled.

"True enough," she remarked. "I must admit you did all in your power to dissuade those who would have set you up as a competitor to me. Until now I always thought it was done out of fear."

"I loathed it," I was quick to assure her. "I want no other goddesses of love and beauty above you, great lady."

Judging by her feet, it seemed she preened. "I believe you. Though I am a jealous goddess, and would rather see you come to some unfortunate end-" I inhaled sharply "there is the matter of my son's affection for you. And of course, his unborn child."

I wondered if she knew because I did, or if she had known from the moment our child was conceived. "Please, lady, how is Eros?"

"Still sulking," she said dismissively. "I deliberately set up a bargain that no mortal could keep, but he blames himself and you still. It's really very silly. Unfortunately, when he sulks, his work suffers, which means no lovers, which means no marriages, which means no children, which means no new worshipers. Zeus is extremely displeased, and has demanded I extend the hand of friendship to you, so to speak, and end this."

"Oh, thank you!" I cried out, and was about to kiss her feet, when she held up her hand.

"Before you thank me for my mercy and generosity, there are a few conditions left."

My heart sank. "Conditions?"

"First, you must wash yourself and tend to your body," Aphrodite declared. "I want to see the woman my son fell in love with. Besides, it is an affront to couch in my home without care for one's appearance."

Thus, I was transported to the home of the goddess of love and beauty, and given such fine materials to cleanse myself that I thought I would never see again. But I did not enjoy the experience, since she stayed and watched me until my hair had finally dried.

"You are a pretty thing, aren't you?" she said, pinching my cheek. "A sweet plaything, though even now you grow older and closer to death. If my son had followed instructions, Persephone would surely have had you to attend on her in the underworld."

"I am truly nothing compared to you, my lady," I murmured.

Aphrodite laughed. "Of course you are. Though..." she ghosted her hand over my belly "I must admit, this godling child inside you does lend a certain glow to your features that could make you a fair match for some immortals."

 "It makes no difference to me," I said, fighting the urge to outright say I didn't care who I was more or less beautiful than. "All I want is to see my husband again."

"I'm afraid he's locked himself in his room to tend to the wax burn you gave him," Aphrodite said carelessly.

"Oh!"

"If you are truly sorry for it, you must prove yourself penitent to me."

I hung my head. "Please. I'll do anything."

I will not weary the reader with the strange tasks Aphrodite set for me- separating grains, collecting fleece from Helios' fierce rams, drawing water from the river Styx- since I did none of them myself. I do not know which god was looking after me, but by the time I went to attempt them, they were always finished.

Precisely one task assigned did I perform without assistance, and that was my trip to the underworld to retrieve Persephone's beauty remedy.

In the underworld, I saw many familiar faces- my mother's parents, who had passed when I was six; a nurse, who had drowned herself for love; my own father, whose death I had not known of. It was well I knew speaking to them would doom me, for otherwise I would surely have tried to draw them into conversation.

All in all, by the time I reached Hades' throne, tears were streaming down my face, and I am sure I looked even less flattering than when Aphrodite had found me, with my growing belly and heavily chewed fingernails.

"What's this?" Hades asked his wife, apparently genuinely confused. "It doesn't look dead."

"It's a living soul," Persephone explained. "Someone must have sent it."

Hades eyed me with intellectual curiosity. "I haven't seen a living soul for centuries. What does it want here? There are much easier ways to reach the underworld. Dying, for example."

"I'm not an it," I said, my voice cracking from disuse.

Hades clapped with glee. "Excellent! It speaks! Who sent you?"

"Aphrodite," I muttered, irritated.

"You must be Psyche," Persephone said. "We've heard of you."

"You actually came!" Hades cried. "Isn't it wonderful? A living mortal!"

"She won't be mortal for much longer, dear," Persephone said matter of factly.

"What?" This was the first I had heard of this.

"If you succeed, you'll be turned into a goddess so you can stay with Eros," Persephone said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If you fail, you'll join us here as a shade."

"I hope you fail," Hades said bluntly. "I'm terribly bored with these heroes that are always lurking about. Do have some bread, will you?"

"I adore them, personally," Persephone said. "But we are boring you. You'll be wanting my beauty remedy." She reached under her throne and procured a shining gold box. "Whether you succeed or fail, do return, won't you? There's still the scent of spring on you."

I nodded mutely, though I didn't think I liked the ghoulish pair of gods at all. Persephone's beauty was entirely different from Aphrodite's- there was a stillness to her that reminded me of a cat hunting its prey.

Hades squeezed his wife's hand. "Mother's little girl, always. Take care on the way out- we wouldn't want Cerberus to marr that pretty face of yours."

Considering that he had outright said he hoped I died earlier, I knew this was a threat, and resolved to give Cerberus a wide berth.

Fortunately for me, it turned out that the three headed dog loved the bread I had held onto without eating, and was so occupied with fighting itself over a morsel, that I passed by without incident. All the shades I passed on the way out were strangers, and Charon only squinted at me before accepting my coin.

I was never so happy to see the sky as I was that morning. Coming out into the daylight, I looked at the box I was holding in my hands. Could this possibly, truly, be my last trial?

And if it was, at what cost? What if something of the land of the dead clung to me? I put my hand to my belly, anxious, and was relieved to feel my child kick. Why was it Persephone needed a beauty remedy at all? I had never heard of such a thing for the gods. She could not always have looked as cruel as she did now- perhaps it was living with Hades that drained her of the natural warmth given to a child of spring.

I was kneeling, staring at the box now. Some powerful magic must be in it, for Aphrodite to want it. The danger of my trial had passed- all I had to do now was walk back to Aphrodite's house and demand to see my Eros. But I doubted very much he knew I was pregnant- it would be just like Aphrodite to keep such news from him- and my appearance would surely shock him. Psyche, he would say, grief has made you gain weight and you have a weak, servile look about you from obeying my mother's demands.

I shuddered, and began to struggle with the clasp of the box. No sooner had I opened it than a rush of cold air flung itself at my face, and knocked me off my feet.

The rest I saw from outside my body as if in a dream.

Eros, my beloved, flying towards me and gently scooping up my body, tearing death's veil off my face and pressing a kiss first to my forehead, then to my pregnant belly. The box lay forgotten, but it seemed to me that Persephone stepped out from the underworld (was it the end of winter already?) and closed it, then smiled at me, before I opened my eyes and found myself lying in bed with Eros fussing over me like an old maid.

His eyes lit up when he realized I was awake, and I can't tell you what it felt like to see him full of joy for the first time. "Psyche, dearest, can you ever forgive me?"

I touched the newly healed skin on his shoulder where the hot wax had burned him. "Can you ever forgive me?" I echoed.

"You're long forgiven," he assured me. "My mother confessed everything. When I found out she had been keeping you here in the same house as me, putting you through ridiculous tests- well, we had a bit of a fight. It's all smoothed over now, though- she was just being overprotective. Zeus is going to make you a goddess, and mother will stay out of our marriage from now on. She means well, I promise you- once you have your own domain to rule over, she'll be far nicer to you."

I remembered what Persephone had said, and an odd feeling stole over me. "Will I ever see my family and friends again?" I said, in a small voice.

Eros stroked my hair. "Love, it'll be easier than ever. You can visit them whenever you like. We shall be equals, you and I. No more secrets, and no more nebulous rules."

I smiled. "I like the sound of it. What shall I rule over?"

"It's been considered very carefully, and you're to be the goddess of the soul. You'll look over mortals' journeys and guide them through hardships. Everyone will speak of what you endured in the name of love."

"No one will ever call me Aphrodite again," I whispered. "I think I will like that. I think I will like that very much."

We kissed, and curled up together, marveling at each other's bodies in the light.

"One thing, beloved," I murmured against his ear.

"Anything."

"We must find the most wonderful of husbands for Andromeda."

A mischievous smile spread over Eros' face. "And the most dashing of lovers for Euanthe?"

I wrapped my legs around him. "You understand me perfectly."

There was a small cough, and we turned to see Aphrodite leaning against the wall. "I believe thanks are in order?"

Baffled, I repeated, "Thanks?"

"I am not quite so cruel as I have lead you to believe, little Psyche. It was I that caused my son's hand to slip, and his arrow to fall and pierce his own breast when he saw you."

My husband's eyes widened. "You mean you arranged this all along?"

Aphrodite nodded, her matchless eyes twinkling with merriment. "Though I was honestly irritated by the mortals forsaking me, I had a long conversation with certain other goddesses. You have Hestia to thank for suggesting I solve one problem with the source of another."

"Then why the fights and the catty remarks, Mother?" My husband said, with a trace of irritation. "Why not let us have our happiness from the beginning?"

"Because you would have wondered if she loved you for yourself or for your godhood," Aphrodite said simply. "And because she had to prove her worth. Believe me, I've dallied with mortals before. I know how these matters go. You'll thank me when you're older."

Eros groaned, and shook his head. "Mother, you know I love you, but please understand when I tell you to go away and give me some time alone with my wife."

Aphrodite let loose a glorious laugh, tossed her shimmering hair over her shoulder, and obeyed.

"I don't quite forgive her," I said slowly, "but I do understand, in a way." I touched my belly, and felt our child kick.

**Author's Note:**

> The Oracle's prophecy is loosely translated from the Golden Ass, and not my own writing.
> 
> This owes a huge debt to the book Aphrodite's Blessings, which has retellings of Atalanta, Andromeda and Psyche that all feminist mythology enthusiasts should read. I have followed its lead in removing the punishment of Psyche's sisters (here one sister and Andromeda) and softening Aphrodite's cruelty to Psyche. 
> 
> Thanks to my betas, both anonymous, and triskaidekalogue, who helped after I had a mad last minute urge to add a few sections and re-edit.


End file.
